


Ring Girl

by iwouldliketoseethebaby



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cowgirl Position, Din Djarin's Helmet Stays on During Sex, Episode 9 spoilers, F/M, Inexperienced Din, Missionary, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, f/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwouldliketoseethebaby/pseuds/iwouldliketoseethebaby
Summary: When a Mandalorian causes a ruckus at your work, you're left alone in the cold with no way to get home. This fic is based on events at the beginning of Episode 9.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98





	Ring Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after Gor Koresh and Din's altercation, so spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen episode 9. This is definitely a oneshot.

You shivered in the cold alleyway, holding your knees as you hid behind a stack of wooden skids. After the Abyssin had fired on the fighters in the ring and numerous weapons had been pulled on a Mandalorian in full armour, you knew better than to stick around. It was just a job after all. While working as a ring girl and serving spotchka to drunks was a well-paying gig with lots of tips, it wasn’t worth losing your life for. Usually you walked home after work with a friend for protection, but she had fled too. So here you were, alone, afraid, and wearing only your skimpy ring-girl’s uniform hiding in an alleyway like a womp rat.

“Mando! I can pay,” came a scream from behind a building somewhere, and the air filled with sparks. You tucked yourself smaller, hoping no men would see you.

“Who’s there?” rasped a modulated voice.You couldn’t see the person it belonged to, but you knew that your hiding spot was no longer any good.

You climbed out from behind the wooden skids, revealing yourself. Before you stood the Mandalorian that had been the source of all the trouble inside. With him, hanging out of his satchel was a small green child who looked at you curiously.

“Please...please, Mandalorian. I have credits...I can...just please let me walk home in peace.”

The Mandalorian approached you silently, his large imposing body looming over yours. 

“Are you cold?” he spoke.

His question stunned you, and you looked down at the tips of your white knee-high boots. “Yes,” you answered, shivering. 

He removed his large cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Please little one, I won’t harm you; take my cloak. Are you one of the girls who works inside the fighting ring?”

You pulled his warm cloak around you, surprised by his kindness. “Yes. When the shot was fired and the other men pulled their weapons on you, I ran. My warm tunic and belongings are back at the ring. I usually walk home with a friend...but she ran out too and I…” you began to sob.

“Please, don’t cry. I’ll make sure that you arrive home safely,” his voice cracked.

You nodded, allowing him to walk with you.

“Why is everyone so afraid of Mandalorians if they’re so kind?” you asked.

“We aren’t always kind. Not to everyone. But you haven’t done anything wrong, and it is because of me that you are out here alone and cold. It’s the least I can do.”

After a short walk, you were home. You lived in a block of small, individual apartment huts with doors that let out directly into the street. It wasn’t the best part of town, but it wasn’t the worst. The doors were a secure metal and opened with a code. 

You turned to the Mandalorian. “Would you come in for a drink? Something to eat?” you asked him politely. 

“Nothing for me, but perhaps something for the baby,” he spoke in his low voice.

You keyed in your code on the keypad and the door to your small apartment swung open. It was small but cozy. The Mandalorian sat down at your small wooden table, cradling the green child in his large arm. You hung up his cloak and pulled one of your own tunics on for modesty; your work uniform didn’t leave much to the imagination. It dawned on you that you didn’t know much about Mandalorian culture, but surely your guest was not accustomed to seeing a woman bare so much skin. You had only even seen two in your life, and they were always covered head to toe.

“What does it eat?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

The Mandalorian chuckled. “Anything it can get its hands on, I’m afraid. I have seen it devour an entire frog in one bite. His appetite seems endless...but some broth would do nicely for him, thank you.” 

You rustled in the pantry and found a tin of broth. “I’m assuming the baby isn’t...doesn’t...look like you?” You hoped your question wasn’t too impolite.

“I am unsure of his species,” he spoke. “I am looking for his kind so that I may return him.”

You emptied the broth into a pot on the stove and it began to heat. You stirred the brown liquid with a wooden spoon, trying to think where you had ever seen a creature that looked like the Mando’s baby; you hadn’t. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like him…” you began. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything? I have Corellian whiskey.”

The Mandalorian shifted in his seat. “While the offer is appreciated, I cannot remove my helmet in front of a stranger.” 

You nodded in understanding, ladling broth into a bowl for the small green child.

He took the bowl in his strange three-fingered hands and sipped, his large eyes darting from you to his caretaker. 

“I apologize for my appearance when you found me,” you began, pulling out the other chair to sit across from the Mandalorian. “I feel ashamed of how little I had on.”

“I have seen women in less,” he spoke flatly. You wished you could see the expression beneath his helmet.

“Ah, so you can watch…” you began, catching yourself. “I’m sorry, I’m just so curious about your kind. I’ve never actually had a conversation with a Mandalorian. I’ve only ever seen one other, and as a girl I was always told to stay away from your people. I...I’ll stop talking now,” you blushed, covering your mouth with your hand and slumping down into your oversized tunic. 

The Mandalorian folded his arms, saying nothing. 

“I’m sorry, I always run my mouth and make a fool of myself,” you apologized, watching the little green child sip his broth.

“There are loopholes,” he spoke.

His response shocked you.

“Excuse me?”

“I can do more than watch. But I must admit it is difficult to find someone who isn’t…” his voice trailed off, “...afraid. Someone who is willing to do that type of thing with someone they have always been told is a faceless killer.” 

You gulped, feeling your face burn hot. “Have you ever…?”

“Only once. A brothel on Navarro.” 

You looked at the child who had finished his soup. “Does he know what we’re talking about?” you giggled. 

“I don’t know,” he spoke. 

“I would be interested,” you began, knowing that you were in way over your head. “But you would need to find a babysitter. I couldn’t do it with those beady little eyes staring at me.”

The Mandalorian tilted his head, chuckled, and stood to tuck in his chair. “If I ever find myself back on your planet, I may just take you up on that offer.”

He retrieved his cloak from your entryway, placing the green child back into his satchel. “The little one thanks you for his meal. Good evening, and please stay safe.” 

And just like that, the Mandalorian disappeared from your dwelling.

\---

“Goodnight!” your coworker and friend Adani waved as she rounded the corner to her own dwelling. You had been working late, and you walked home together as was your custom. As you approached your apartment, you noticed a shadowy figure looming by your doorway. Upon closer inspection, it was a large man in head to toe beskar. You had hoped that he would return. But what if it wasn’t the same Mando?

“It had better be the green kid’s dad under there,” you called out from a few feet away.

“It is,” he rasped. 

You laughed, keying in your code to open the door. You couldn’t help but notice that he was alone. Perhaps he had found the child’s people?

The Mandalorian followed you inside wordlessly. He hung his cloak and sat down next to you at the table. 

“Where’s the kid?” 

He took his time with a response. “I have found...a babysitter.” 

You unfolded your arms, looking at him where you assumed his eyes might be. “Well damn, Mando. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have done a better job shaving my legs.” 

“Din.”

“Din? Your name is Din?”

“Yes. You should know my name if we are to be intimate. And would like to know yours as well.”

You told him your name, and he nodded in acceptance. While Din certainly didn’t really have much to offer in the way of erotic banter, there was something alluring about his presence. While other men had to work hard at convincing you to go home with them, something about Din caught your attention. Perhaps it was the armour or the mystery of what was behind it, but just a few words from this man made the wetness start to pool between your legs. 

“I have rules,” came his near-whisper.

“OK?”

“As I have mentioned before, the helmet must stay on. I will be in charge of removing my own garments. And we must use protection if you do not have an implant.”

You patted your arm where your implant was hidden under your skin. “It’s here if you’d like to feel.” 

The Mandalorian removed his gloves and cautiously dragged his finger along the skin of your arm, sending shivers down your back.

“I have to apologize, but I had drinks spilled on me at work and I’m all sticky. Will you make yourself comfortable while I clean myself up?”

Din nodded.

\---

When you had finished showering, you stepped into your bedroom to find Din waiting there. He was undressed except for his helmet and underneath your blankets. His clothes and armour were in several neat piles on your dresser, and next to them, a surprising array of weapons. Seeing them there somehow turned you on even more.

You climbed in bed next to Din, drinking in the sight of his naked form in the low light of your single lamp. His skin was tanned and surprisingly smooth with just a few scant hairs on his chest. His shoulders were broad and muscular, and his stomach taut with just a hint of softness. His legs were long with thick thighs. Even without seeing his face, you were certain that the man in your bed was probably pretty handsome. 

Then there was the matter of the thing between his legs. A soft trail of dark hair led your eyes down to his cock which was a good size and quite thick. You couldn’t wait to ride him, knowing that with his lack of experience you might be taking the lead. Indeed, it was quite strange to be bedding a man who could murder someone a thousand ways but barely knew his way around a woman’s body. 

“May I touch you?” you asked. 

“Yes,” came his modulated reply.

You began with a hand on his chest, running your hands over it, taking him to graze his nipples. A low rumble escaped from his throat, letting you know that your Mandalorian was quite starved for touch. You made your way down his torso with your hands, making sure to go slow with him. 

When you reached his cock, you could already see that he was half-hard with a bead of precum at the tip. With one finger, you spread the liquid slowly over his tip in a circular motion. You dipped your finger slowly under his foreskin, making sure to watch his body language carefully. 

Soon, you replaced your finger with your mouth, gripping the base of his now fully-hard cock in your hand. He let out a small moan as you enveloped him, licking your way around the head of his cock. When you took the whole head into your mouth, the tension in his shoulders loosened and he began to slide down further into the bed. 

When you began to slowly lick and suck your way down his shaft, he began to curse in a language you didn’t quite recognize. It must have been his mother tongue.

“Gedet'ye...” 

You worked him with your mouth a while longer, taking your time to let him feel every last slide of your hot tongue and lips while moans spilled from beneath his helmet.

“Stop,” he panted. “I want to take my time with you.” 

You pulled your mouth off of his red, swollen cock. You didn’t want him to orgasm without riding him first.

He flipped you onto your back on the bed, crouching above you and trying to ignore his obvious, needy erection. He extended his index finger to you and said only one word: “Lick.”

You took the finger into your mouth, licking and sucking your way down obscenely. Clumsily, his large finger found your folds and parted them. Tentatively, he entered you with his finger. Slowly he began to stroke, crooking his finger upwards. While the Mandalorian was inexperienced, he had clearly received instruction of some kind, or perhaps watched holovids. Breathy moans escaped your lips, and you relaxed into the soft mattress. With time he added a second finger and began to massage your clit slowly in a circular motion. You weren’t expecting this from Din at all. 

“Does it feel good?” he breathed through the modulator.

“Yes,” you squirmed beneath him. “I’m close. Keep going...feels good.”

With a few more thrusts of his fingers, you felt your pussy clench around his hand and you gripped his large thigh in pleasure. Your wetness spilled onto his fingers and you gasped loudly enough for any nosy neighbours to hear. 

With his arousal-slicked fingers, Din began to pump his still-hard cock. 

“Will you ride me, cyar'ika?”

You nodded, pushing the warrior down onto your bed. You straddled him, gripping the base of his dripping member with your hand while Din gripped your hips. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, taking time to savour his thickness. Obscene words tumbled from his lips, and you sat still, running your hands down his bare chest.

“How does it feel?” you asked, slowly swiveling your hips.

“Incredible,” came his reply. You knew he must have been telling the truth, because your Mandalorian never used emphatic language for anything. He was always direct and to the point. 

You picked up your pace, riding him lazily and fondling your breasts.

“And now?”

“Good...so good,” he moaned.

He sat up a bit in the bed, gripping your hips, lifting you slightly with each of your movements so that you felt every inch of his length. You began to ride him faster, leaning forward and gripping the headboard above him for traction.

“Din...I love the way you fill my pussy,” you moaned.

Din grasped your wrist in one hand and your hip in the other. “On your back, cyarika.”

He flipped you onto your back, straddling you. With a tentative movement, he was back inside you, moving slowly. You wished you could kiss him in that moment, but settled for the feeling of his helmet pressed lightly against your forehead.

“Do you like the way I feel, cyarika?” 

You nodded yes, squeezing his calloused hand when words failed you. You gripped his hip with your leg, allowing him to bury himself deeper. 

“Fuck,” he rasped.

“Take me as hard as you need. I won’t break,” you panted out.

Din picked up his speed, setting a bruising pace. You gripped his muscular shoulder, feeling his back ripple under your fingers with every deep thrust. You knew that he wouldn’t last, and neither would you.

“Close,” you moaned.

With a few more thrusts you felt your pussy throb and clench around his length. Moments later you heard him curse and he let go, spilling his hot seed into you. You continued to grip him with your legs, not wanting to lose the feeling of him inside you. He pulled away, tucking you under his arm and holding you to his chest.

“I wish I could pull that dumb bucket off of your head to see the man who just fucked me like that,” you panted.

A small chuckle rumbled beneath his helmet. “If you try it, this will be the last time you fuck anyone.” 

“Relax,” you yawned, snuggling into his chest. “Your secret is safe with me. Now two women know that you’re hung like a Bantha.”

\---

“What the hell took you so long? I’m freezing out here,” Adani scolded, leaning on the graffiti-covered wall across from your dwelling. 

“I was just fixing my eye makeup,” you offered, keying in the code to lock your door. You began to walk in the frosty night air, pulling your red scarf up over your lips.

“The old lady who lives next to you told me she heard you up all night fucking when she was outside shaking her rug out. She’s senile, right?”

You laughed, not answering. You were never really one to kiss and tell. 

“You were fucking someone? Who? Was it that jackass from the concession stand again?”

You pursed your lips, “OK first of all, he got fired a while ago.”

“Who then?” Adani yelled into the night air. “Someone from work? A customer?”

You took a breath, knowing Adani would never believe you if you told her who. “Remember that Mando who came into our work a while back? The one that the boss got into it with?”

“The Mando that strung up our boss by his ankles and left him to die? You know…” she began, kicking the dirt up beneath her high-heeled boot. “...you’re a terrible liar. Always have been.” 

“OK,” you laughed, continuing to walk.

Adani froze and you kept walking. “Wait.”

You turned your head to her, watching her stunned expression as she lit up a death stick. “Yeah?”

“Holy shit. You actually fucked that Mando.” 

“Yep.”

She caught up with you, blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Helmet off?”

“Helmet on.” 

“OK, that’s kinda hot.”


End file.
